


we said we'd only die of lonely secrets

by writerforlife



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, M/M, post-Opal short story, with a healthy dose of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 15:45:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13860906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerforlife/pseuds/writerforlife
Summary: "Ronan folded his arms over his chest. A little streak of combativeness still ran through his veins, wild and angry, but his voice betrayed it and trembled. It’s like you want it, Adam had said. It’s like some part of you always wants it."After a brush with the dangers of dreaming, Adam and Ronan come to an understanding.





	we said we'd only die of lonely secrets

**Author's Note:**

> The Opal short story killed me and this is the only way I know how to deal with emotions. There are spoilers for the end of the story here!!
> 
> Title is from the song The System Only Dreams in Total Darkness by The National, which is a very Ronan song imo

Ronan woke with a fix for Adam’s car in his hand and Adam’s eyes on him. Watching. Analyzing. Drawing conclusions.  _ What does he see?  _ Ronan couldn’t move, so he and Adam looked at each other without blinking. Then, when Ronan shifted his position, Adam plucked the apparatus from his hand and studied that, brow furrowed. 

“Neat,” he finally said, then put it down next to Ronan and glanced at the debris from the trash Opal had hurled across the yard in her fury. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tapped his knuckles against the top of the BMW, then followed the trail of garbage that ended in a half-torn Food Lion bag. Ronan watched as Adam gathered the trash like one would pick wildflowers from a field; in the moonlight, the angles of his hands and jawline were even stranger and more beautiful than usual. There was no telling if Adam was simply gathering evidence of what had almost happened to get rid of it or if he was avoiding further conversation. Ronan self-consciously wiped away the black goo from under his nose.  _ I was being unmade.  _ It was too much like before, too much like—

“You weren’t dreaming.” Opal stood outside the BMW with her arms folded stubbornly across her chest and lips jutted out. She wasn’t human, nor was she a child, but her lip was jutted out in a girlish manner. “ _ A habet somnium somniare _ .”

“English. We aren’t in a dream.” He stretched out in the front seat, arms and legs heavy. 

“But I’m right. You have to dream.” 

“Why aren’t you helping Adam? You love eating the receipts.” What he meant was  _ why are you telling me I need to dream.  _ Of course he needed to dream. Needed to breathe, too, eat and drink water. Something in the physiology of Ronan Lynch demanded that he create and pull magical from his imagination, and if he didn’t, it would kill him. Figured. He was damned if he brought back demons, damned if he didn’t. He thought of his father, head smashed in, and Kavinsky, consumed by the products of his own mind. 

Opal shuffled her feet and picked up a stick to gnaw on. “Will you dream a new Cabeswater?” 

“He will!” Adam called, approaching the BMW with the gathered trash freshly stuffed into the Food Lion bag. His eyes flicked over Ronan again.  _ Tell me what you see, Adam.  _ “You’re kinda a mess, Lynch.” 

“And?” Ronan folded his arms over his chest. A little streak of combativeness still ran through his veins, wild and angry, but his voice betrayed it and trembled.  _ It’s like you want it,  _ Adam had said.  _ It’s like some part of you always wants it.  _

“And, you need to get cleaned up.” Adam, too, had a streak of combativeness; he was better at hiding it, but it was still there. “You don’t get to just  _ wallow  _ in it.”

Ronan didn’t move from the BMW’s driver seat.  _ It’s like you don’t care if it happens, then,  _ Adam had also said.  _ It’s like you’re never afraid.  _ He’d been telling the truth—of course he had, because he always told the truth; when the truth would be too painful, he merely didn’t speak—when he’d said that part of him was fucked. Only he believed Adam told the truth, too, when he said that he cared whether Ronan lived or died. “Wallow, Parrish?” he asked as he got out of the car, Opal still hovering near him and his newest dream object. 

Adam raised an eyebrow. “It’s what you were doing.”

“It’s a Gansey word.” He took the bag of trash from Adam’s hand and handed it to Opal, who eyed it with narrowed eyes. “Go wild, brat. Eat all the trash you want.”

She smiled like it was Christmas and, without another word, scurried off to who-knew-where; Ronan would inevitably find the shredded remnants of the bag later. 

“Good thing she has all the answers,” Adam said as they walked toward the house. “I sure don’t. I wouldn’t have known what to do.”

“She’s keeping something from us.” Ronan was irked. It was also a Gansey word, irked, but he was simultaneously irritated and annoyed. Irked. He could tell from the way she had difficulty maintaining eye contact and religiously roamed the house to check every room. It didn’t seem fair that someone who began as a part of  _ his  _ dream could keep secrets from him, but he was a precariously balanced symphony of secrets. Of course Opal would be inclined to create her own. He needed a new Cabeswater, had needed one for a long time. 

“I think we have enough to worry about for one night.” Adam opened the door for him, still watching him with worried eyes. He guided Ronan to a kitchen chair and eased the black-stained shirt from his body. Despite the summer heat, goosebumps rose on Ronan’s neck and back. The black goo had poured from his ears, eyes, nose, and mouth. Covered his lips. Streaked down his cheeks like tears. Dripped over his neck and collarbone like candle wax. 

He inhaled. The sink ran, water collecting in a bowl. Outside, crickets chirped. Ronan leaned back in his chair and exhaled. 

“Yeah, he’s okay.” Adam stood with his back to Ronan, one hand braced against the countertop, the other cupped over the back of his neck. His cellphone was nestled between his neck and ear, and on the other side, Gansey chattered. “No, no, Opal fixed it. I think it’s stopped for now.” He glanced over his shoulder at Ronan’s slumped form, then snapped his fingers. “We’re both okay, but I’ll keep you updated. Yeah. Bye. Yeah.” Adam ran his hand up and over his hair; the bowl in the sink overflowed. “I know,” he murmured. “I know.” 

Adam poured some of the water out before carrying the bowl and a towel to the table. He wet the cloth, then crouched down and put his fingers to Ronan’s jawline. “Lord, it’s still everywhere.” He dabbed the black crust away from his ears and eyes, not quite looking at Ronan for the first time. He furrowed his brow as he wrung out the towel and the water turned inky, then bit his lip as he soaked it again. Ronan turned his face away, but Adam’s finger’s guided it back. He wiped the cloth over Ronan’s lips, gentle and tender, and as soon as the crust was gone, he kissed Ronan in a way that was entirely not gentle. The cloth fell to the floor as Adam deepened the kiss and dragged his hands over Ronan’s bare chest. Ronan pressed them closer so skin would be against skin, lips against lips. 

“I remember…” Adam exhaled sharply and pulled away slightly, his eyes wide and wild in a way that was foreign to his typical control. “I couldn’t stop thinking about…” He sank to the floor and sat cross-legged, bare feet pressed against the wooden floor. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Ronan slid off the chair and onto the floor, knocking his ankle against Adam’s. “I didn’t think it was going to hurt anything. I needed it to be perfect.” 

The answer didn’t satisfy Adam. He drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “I just…” He rubbed his eyes; Ronan saw that tears had pooled in them, threatening to spill down. Adam didn’t cry. He never cried. Ronan leaned closer. “What if it happens again? I won’t be here in the fall. What if I wasn’t  _ here _ ? And you think Opal’s hiding something. Well, what if that’s something that puts you in danger again? I think you’re always going to be in danger.”

“Adam—”

“Please. Whether it’s from  _ this. _ ” Adam motioned to the blackness. “Or someone who gets it in their head that a dreamer’s going to make them a hell of a lot richer. You’re going to be in danger, and I can’t do anything.”

Ronan took Adam’s hand in his and held it tightly. Even after months, he marvelled at being allowed to hold Adam’s hand whenever he felt like it (which was a lot). “You can live like I’m not in danger.” He swallowed hard.  _ This isn’t all that I am _ , he wanted to say. Kavinsky and his father had been defined by their dreams. Ronan wanted to be something more.  _ Had  _ to be something more. Perhaps that started with Adam. 

“And you have to care,” Adam said. “When I leave, I need to know that the man I love cares if he stays alive.” He paused and tilted his head like he always did when he strained to hear a faraway sound. It was as if he listened to the past, to the words he’d just said. 

_ The man I love.  _ Ronan squeezed his hand. “Romantic, Parrish.”

Adam laughed breathlessly and wiped his eyes. “You  _ asshole. _ You know, Gansey was getting in the Pig. He was going to drive from wherever he is in the middle of the night.”

“Am I supposed to be surprised?”

“No, I guess not. He was thinking about…”

“The same thing you were. You and that overactive brain.” Ronan tapped on Adam’s temple. “I am perfectly not-unmade. Alive and kicking.”

Adam scooted over so that he was sitting next to Ronan and facing the window. Outside, the stars twinkled over the two cars parked next to each other, one dream and one entirely shitty. Ronan leaned his head into the crook of Adam’s neck and pretended not to notice when Adam searched for his pulse. Trouble was to come. When you could take nothing and make it something, trouble would always come. Whatever Adam said, dreamers were in high demand among those who knew where to look. Ronan suspected Opal’s secret had something to do with someone who knew where to look, but it wasn’t the night to press. 

Trouble wouldn’t come tonight.  


End file.
